


Fleur-de-lis

by Mithlomi



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: All aboard the train to fluff town, F/M, I REGRET NOTHING, UST is my jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:49:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1909824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithlomi/pseuds/Mithlomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes the opportunity to give her a gift he thinks she deserves...</p><p>How Constance received her Fleur-de-lis necklace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fleur-de-lis

**Author's Note:**

> *dances through with nothing to regret* 
> 
> save for the fact it's unbeta'd because as usual, i'm lazy...

"You don't really need me here anymore, do you?" He leant back against the wall, arms crossed in front of him as another target shattered into oblivion. Pistol still smoking she turned to him with an irrepresible grin, that infected him immediately... as usual.

"I most certainly do. You're here so I can gloat..." She winked at him, eyes dancing with mirth, handing him back the pistol, fingers brushing lightly over the back of her hand as she took the fully loaded weapon. He stopped her before she pulled away, hand still covering hers and she blinked, surprised for a moment.

"If you wish to gloat you have to earn it." He kept his gaze focused on wide azure eyes, determined not to drift to her parted pink lips, even as he gave her a crooked half smile that distracted her for a moment. "Three shots in a row..."

He stood back, hooking his thumbs in his belt, leaning back against the wall and wearing that smile that made him look so ridiculously handsome she forced herself to look away, lest she forget herself and fail his challenge.

One shot

Two shots

Three...

Her grin was irrepresible, as was the giggle that burst from her as she celebrated her victory. "So what's my prize?"

"Prize? I don't remember mentioning anything about a prize?"

She laughed and felt her heart soar. Because she loved this. It was so... easy. This gentle teasing and tender affection that she saw in his gaze.

She was happy. Happier than she'd been in a long time. Ever, in fact.

"How about my admiration and respect?" he continued with a small bow.

She made a face, hand on hip. "Hmm, not good enough I'm afraid. You'll have to think of something better than that..." She handed him back the pistol, crooked smile still on her lips as she passed...

\------------

He'd actually spotted the necklace a few days ago. A brief hour to spare with his own company had found him wandering down unfamiliar streets. He returned there now. The market here was small and the vendors obviously struggling. The metalworker sat quietly at the side of his wares, as if resigned to the fact that it would be another day without trade, another night on an empty stomach.

He liked the fact the necklace was simple. Constance was not one to be impressed with trinkets and baubles- what use would they serve? When would she ever get the chance to wear them? As much as he thought her worthy of all the jewels in the palace...

But it was the embellishment. The fleur-de-lis, etched with a careful and steady hand. He smiled softly to himself as he picked it up, thumb grazing over the detail. He may not have his own yet, but she deserved one too. For all her help, all her kindness. She was worthy of it.

"For your sweetheart?" The metalworker had obviously changed his mind about the lack of potential custom, moving closer to the Gascon.

d'Artagnan said nothing. Instead, he simply wore a knowing smile and reached for his coin purse.

"How much?"

\-----------------------

"What's this?"

He'd waited for her to turn her back, taking their dirty plates from the table before he fished out the small velvet bag. He'd been trying to find the opportunity all night, suddenly embarrased, unsure by his choice of gift. But he was quickly running out of time; her husband would be home tomorrow.

He would not approve of his lodger buying gifts for his wife.

A small frown at her brow, she gazed at him in bemusement as she picked up the bag, and his knowing smile grew. He was quiet as she tipped the necklace into her palm, delighting in the small gasp that escaped, watching her azure gaze light up even in the dim candlelight, a small yet wonderful smile tugging at her lips.

He wished he could see her wear it more often.

"It's your prize." He grinned triumphantly, pleased with himself and looking younger than ever.

But her face fell and his with it.

"d'Artagnan..."

"Don't you like it?" It was hard to hide his disappointment.

She let out a small chuckle. "It's... it's beautiful..." There was something he didn't recognise in her voice- wonder perhaps, something glassy in her gaze as her thumb brushed over the charm. "But you should not have done this. I was only joking and you couldn't possibly afford something like this. Especially not to give to _me..._ "

He held his tongue, cutting himself off from telling her that he'd spend more if he could, and simply stood. He moved to her side and took the necklace from her, studying it himself for a moment, before gazing up at her under dark lashes, waiting for her to realise what he wanted her to do.

He knew he'd won when he saw her smile, bright and true, and she sweeped her hair over a shoulder as she turned around. He lifted the necklace over her head carefully, and allowed himself to let his fingers trail over so lightly over her collar as he brought the ends of the cord together at the back of her neck. Her skin was as soft as he imagined and he thought he felt her pulse race a little...

He moved back suddenly, and she turned, hand reaching up to play with her prize. For a moment, brief and breathtaking, she simply held his gaze, lips parted, eyes bright. She knew; she knew why had he chosen such a gift...

Then she stepped closer, and very slowly, reached up to place the softest of kisses to his cheek.

He swallowed tight passed the lump in his throat as she pulled away.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

"Of course." His voice was lower than he intended it to be.

And then she grinned, that wonderful teasing smile that he wished she would wear all the time.

"I wonder what you might find for me when I beat you in swordfight..."

He threw his head back and laughed.

"I'm not joking..."

"I know you aren't."


End file.
